


Worth

by themantlingdark



Series: Inheritance [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themantlingdark/pseuds/themantlingdark
Summary: I can't disable commenting. If I could, I would. Please pretend that I have.





	Worth

It's the end of a smoldering week in late August. Loki has been ornery with the heat. Thor tries to pull him in for a kiss.

“Don't touch me,” Loki scolds, swiping at him. “Your skin is too warm and you're soaked in sweat.”

“You're no better,” Thor says.

“I know,” Loki moans. “It's miserable.”

“Come on,” Thor says, and walks out onto the balcony.

Loki huffs and remains where he is. Thor turns and sees him sulking. He laughs and wiggles his fingers, beckoning, until Loki scowls and follows. He whines when Thor puts an arm around his waist.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Thor tells him.

Loki does, wrinkling his nose at the sweat and warmth. And then he hears the hammer whirring over their heads and they're yanked from their feet.

Thor takes them to a cold spring to bathe. Loki strips and sinks straight to the bottom, aimlessly picking through the pebbles that line the pool, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He looks up and sees Thor floating on his back above him, a dark silhouette against the brightness of the sky.

The curves of Thor's ass are hidden at this angle and in this light, which Loki finds vexing.

Thor swims off to beach himself in the shallow water, arms folded and resting on the grassy shore, head pillowed on a wrist. Loki swims up and clambers on top of him, stretching out on Thor's back with his chin on his shoulder. A minute later Loki shifts his hips and Thor can feel Loki's erection slotting neatly into the cleft of his ass as Loki settles again.

Thor hums and Loki kisses the side of his face. Loki's skin is warm. He's still too uncomfortable to change it, despite the pleasant chill of the spring.

Thor climbs to his feet while Loki clings to his back like a possum to its mother. Only with more giggling and kissing. Probably.

“Hold on tight,” Thor says, and spins Mjolnir again.

When Loki realizes where Thor is taking them, he shouts and bites Thor's shoulder in excitement.

Thor sets them down high up in the mountains, on a snowy slope above the treeline. He calls a storm and, at this frigid height, the rain turns to snow.

Loki shifts his skin and sighs, dropping to the ground and rolling around in the shimmering powder, gathering it to his skin and burying himself beneath it. And it doesn't melt.

Thor joins him on the ground, still naked. They left their clothes at the spring.

He packs the snow around Loki, starting up around his head, building him a hood and collar, and then a breastplate, working his way from the sides to the center. Loki just lies there smiling. Thor forms little walls of snow that bracket Loki's hips, then spreads Loki's thighs wide and kneels between them.

It takes Thor a moment to realize it isn't his own breath that's fogging the air in front of him: steam is rising from the folds of flesh between Loki's legs.

It's the most endearing thing Thor has ever seen.

He tucks snow up against the backs of Loki's thighs and shapes it to the curves of his buttocks before sinking face-first into the warmth of his quim.

Loki lets out a happy sigh above him and Thor turns his head slowly from side to side, dragging the tip of his nose back and forth over the plump pleats of skin before him.

And he wants to see more. Reach further. He runs his hands over Loki's inner thighs and his index fingers alight on the edges of Loki's opening, pulling them aside only slightly, but enough that Thor can see the point at which Loki's skin jumps from blue to the same bright pink within Thor's own body - the color of his gums and the insides of his cheeks.

Thor swirls his tongue around Loki's quim in slow circles, seeing the snow on Loki's stomach shift as the muscles beneath it flex. Tartness flows out into his mouth with each twitch of Loki's belly.

It always surprises Thor; Loki tastes green to him somehow. Like a plant.

A baker at the palace often candies flowers to decorate cakes, and Thor always eats them, drawn by their beauty and strangeness. And after the crunch of the sugar and its syrupy sweetness have faded from his palate, the taste of the bloom itself remains: bright and bitter and alive in a way that would likely pair better with a roast than with a confection. Thor has always stolen the blossoms from his mother's plate, and - if he's seated on Odin's right where the god won't see Thor in time to stop him - he steals them from his father, too.

And here is that same taste and beauty set before him. Even the sugar is there, but barely – just a whisper of sweetness. Thor is taken by a strange fancy to lay his husband down on a sheet cake. A gorgeous blue garnish with a pink core. To see Loki's long limbs sinking into buttercream instead of snow.

And then Thor's mouth is watering, so he sucks on Loki's cock to put the wetness to good use, hungrily swallowing down the fullness of it. The flesh is slightly cool when Loki is in this form. Not as cold as his fingertips, but nowhere near as warm as his cunny. Thor eases two fingers into the heat of Loki's cunt and the contrast is delicious.

There's a sound Loki makes in this shape that he never utters when he takes an Aesir form. It's like laughter, humming, and purring all rolled into one, and there aren't letters that can spell it in any language Thor knows. The first time Thor heard it was tenth time they made love. They'd taken an icy bath and Loki had shifted his skin to enjoy the water and to chill it further with his fingers. Loki was fond of the way the cold made Thor's nipples pull up into tight peaks and how all of the little gold hairs on his arms stood on end. Up to that point, Thor had never had his hands on Loki's Jotun skin, but he wouldn't complain, since he knew the warmth of the realm would make it uncomfortable for his spouse. They had washed each other's backs and gotten distracted by the slide of hands on soapy skin. After ten increasingly frenzied minutes of kissing, Thor had heaved Loki up to sit at the edge of the bath and bent his head to Loki's hips. When Thor's tongue had pressed into Loki's quim, this impossible sound had issued from Loki's throat, and Thor groaned in answer. In bed the following morning, Thor had kissed Loki's cunny until Loki spent, and Loki had sighed and hummed and moaned, but that strange musical sound never tickled Thor's ears.

A week later they were scrabbling at each other on top of a block of ice that Loki had built in the bathtub. Loki's skin was blue and he made the sound again. Thor's mind saw the connection. And, for the first time in his life, Thor lamented that the winter was so far away.

Loki's purring is rising in pitch and his legs are shaking with the strain of bracing his body for the impact of his orgasm. He screams at the sky when he spills down Thor's throat.

Once the faint thrusts of Loki's hips have subsided and the last of his seed has escaped, Thor carefully pulls his lips away and moves to curl up beside him, kissing his shoulder and tangling their fingers together.

And Loki feels sorry for Thor. He finds it tragic that his husband will never know the pleasures of the pretty pink passage that he has between his own legs. Will never bear a child.

Loki turns over and sits up, pushing Thor onto his back and and kissing his way down Thor's body. The warmth of Thor's skin is more apparent when Loki is in Jotun form. He can better appreciate it. He sucks and nibbles on the tight little nubs of Thor's nipples until Thor is laughing and thrashing his head from side to side. He gives them soft parting kisses in apology and then nips the hollows above the crests of Thor's hipbones. Thor is ticklish here, and he's twitching now, giggling and trying not to knock Loki's teeth out with his squirming.

Loki moves back and pulls Thor's legs apart, positioning them up in the air. And Thor worries briefly, because they didn't bring any oil and he doesn't relish explaining such a stupid injury to a healer, but then Loki is lying on his belly with his nose at the base of Thor's cock.

Thor can feel the skin of his scrotum stretch as Loki takes it between his lips, teasing and tugging gently. The skin is pebbled and tight from the cold. Loki's lips do nothing to warm it, but then his tongue peeks out, warm as anything.

Loki sees Thor's cock bob in front of him. He kisses the crease of each thigh, leaving it damp, the skin chilling in the air. He keeps kissing, pressing his lips lightly over the spongy swell of flesh behind Thor's balls, and then lower. Thor's opening twitches under Loki's lips, but Thor brings his legs up toward his chest, lifting the little hole higher, and Loki grins and takes what's given.

Thor could spend the rest of his life like this. All he can see is the white of the falling snow. All he can feel is the warm tip of a willing tongue tracing his anus. He wants to laugh. If you'd told him at age twelve that this was the height of pleasure, he'd have recoiled in horror. But here he is, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

When Loki stiffens his tongue and slips it inside, Thor makes a strangled cry, and Loki hums in appreciation, sending little sound waves coursing through their flesh. Thor reaches down to drag his foreskin up and down his cock, swiping his thumb through the dew at the tip and arching at his own touch. Loki keeps thrusting into him with his tongue and Thor strokes himself until he spends, raining unexpected warmth over his chest. He lies there, gasping, while Loki crawls up beside him, grinning.

“How much cold can you take?” Loki asks, and Thor huffs a laugh and sighs.

“I suspect I'm about to find out.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I can't disable commenting. If I could, I would. Please pretend that I have.


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